Page 76 of Twisted Vows

I struggle to prepare tea, spilling again and again as my fingers quiver around the ceramic. After three failed attempts, one of the maids saves me and offers me a perfect cup laced with honey.

I’m sipping my beverage while pondering how to handle the situation when the front door swings open and Enzo appears.

“You left,” he rumbles.

“Wow. You’ve really mastered the art of stating the obvious.” I cross my arms. It’s amazing how fury can inspire bravery in a woman.

“You went without protection.”

“Right. Because I’m just a lamb, and you’re…what? My shepherd?”

His eyes narrow. “You’re my wife.”

“Oh, don’t you dare…” I close the distance, rage beating faster than my pulse. “You don’t get to use that word like it’s a leash.”

“Then stop acting like a damn stray.” His irritation crackles through the air.

“I needed answers!” My voice cracks. “And you wouldn’t give me a cookie unless it was signed in blood.”

“You still should’ve told me you were going.”

“Why?” I throw my arms up in exasperation. “So you could lock another door? Throw another threat in my face? Pretend that your version of protection is something other than control?”

I’m expecting an instant response, but he gives me none. Instead, an awkward silence settles between us for the next five seconds.

When he finally speaks, his rough, unsteady voice drops. “It’s not control. It’s fear.”

My breath stops.

Enzo falters. “If something happened to you…”

Hot, messy tears crash past my stubbornness.

I stumble forward and smash into him. His chest is warm and familiar. My fists curl in his shirt like I’m a drowning woman grasping at an anchor. “Vincent.” The words shatter against his shoulder. “He…he did it. He drugged Mama. Her whole mind was a prison, and he held the keys and smiled through it.”

Enzo goes still, worry etched across his face. Then he pulls me in, one hand cupping the back of my head, his fingers sinking into my hair. “I’ve got you.” He soothes my raw nerves. “You’re not alone.”

I tilt my chin up to look at him. “Kiss me.” I want to finish what we started the other night. I need to.

His eyes find mine, my face reflecting in the dark brown irises. There’s no distance or storm between us now, just heat and a revealing silence.

“Are you sure?”

I nod.

His mouth is on mine before I can take another breath.

My hand slides up to feel his heart pounding beneath my palm.

He claims me with bruising lips and a hot tongue that pushes past mine. His stubble scrapes fire across my skin. My back hits the wall with a jolt that nearly knocks the air out of me, the cold plaster contrasting vividly with the fire he’s lit inside. His hands cradle my cheeks, his thumbs rough on my jaw like he’s trying to memorize every damn line.

“Yes, Enzo…” I whimper into his mouth, both fists bunched in his shirt.

He growls right back, kissing me with such ferocity, I taste blood. “Don’t say my name like that.” His teeth nip my lip—and wow—that’s a threat and a promise all at once. “I’ll lose control.”

I already have, and I want him to as well.

When his hand glides lower, down my side to grip the curve of my hip, I shiver. His palm is so large, so sure. Mine, meanwhile, trembles as I fumble with his buttons.